


Creeper Wolf

by FearThisQueer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom!Stiles, Creeper Derek, Dubious Consent, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming, Scent Kink, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 14:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearThisQueer/pseuds/FearThisQueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Derek may have a bit of a problem.</p><p>But it’s not really his fault, he can’t help that Stiles smells so good. And if Derek watches him at lacrosse practice a couple times a week and then rushes home to jerk off, well… that’s nobody’s business but his own. It’s not like he’s actually doing anything, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oops I wrote porn instead of doing homework. First ever Sterek fic, be gentle!

So Derek may have a bit of a problem.

But it’s not really his fault, he can’t help that Stiles smells so good. And if Derek watches him at lacrosse practice a couple times a week and then rushes home to jerk off, well… that’s nobody’s business but his own. It’s not like he’s actually doing anything, right?

Objectively he always knew that Stiles was attractive- if you’re into that whole doe eyed, full lipped, big hands thing he has going on (not saying Derek is, he’s merely making observations). He has no idea how the entire school seems to collectively ignore his presence. Derek just never let himself admit that he was attracted to Stiles until he really got a good whiff of his scent for the first time. 

It was about two months ago when Derek dropped into Stiles’ window, intending to ask if his research about Beacon Hill’s latest supernatural crisis had yielded any results. He had just popped his head into the room to find Stiles with his back towards him when he pulled his jersey over his head, revealing the expanse of pale skin dotted with moles. The post-practice scent hit him full force and he stood there stunned half in the window with his mouth hanging open. When Stiles finally noticed Derek there he jumped and clasped his hand over his heart.

Once he had composed himself he asked with exaggerated annoyance, “Is there a reason you’re here or are you just gonna stare at me?”

Derek had completely forgotten whatever it was he came here for, all words leaving him as the blood that usually occupied his brain went racing south. After a few seconds of the painfully silent staring contest, Derek simply turned and fled the roof without a word. Not the most mature reaction, but hey, he panicked. 

Stiles’ scent was usually masked by all the layers he wore. Even during the pool fiasco he never really noticed it, it was overpowered by the chlorine and Derek was a little distracted trying not to drown or get murdered by a giant lizard. But now that Derek had gotten a taste for it, it was impossible to ignore. Anytime Stiles and he were in the same room together he spent most of the time actively not looking at him.

Now here he is, watching a high school lacrosse practice from behind the bleachers like some kind of pedophile. He tracks the 24 weaving amongst the sea of red jerseys and watches every movement of his lean legs and surprisingly broad shoulders. He’s certainly not the best player out there, but Stiles is the only one Derek sees on the field, unable to tear his eyes away.

Stiles gets knocked down a few times, but always springs right back up, never afraid to run full speed into the next player, even though most of the team is larger than him. Derek sees the grass stains on his knees and imagines a much more vulgar way he could have gotten them. 

Finstock’s shrill whistle interrupts his chain of thought, gathering the players together. 

“All right good practice everybody; now get out of my sight! Except you, Greenberg, you can pack up the nets.”

As Derek is just about to head home for his usual Stiles themed alone time, he hears Stiles whisper from across the field,

“If you’re going to be a creeper wolf the least you could do is give me a ride home, my jeep is in the shop.”

Derek stands stiffly in his hiding place until Stiles catches up to him. His cheeks are all flushed from the exertion and there are beads of sweat running down the sides of his face. Hoping his glare will hide the mortification of being caught gawking, Derek stares Stiles down with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Pleeeease?” Stiles begs, batting his eyelashes and pouting. Jesus Christ, this kid is going to fucking kill him. 

“Fine” Derek huffs out as he stomps off towards the parking lot. 

Stiles bounds after him, close on his heels. 

“Oh wait! I need to grab my bag, don’t leave without me!”

“Just hurry up” Derek grunts. 

Waiting in the driver’s seat, Derek tries to forget about the last time he was in that locker room. In a moment of horny desperation, he snuck into the locker room while the players were still on the field. He followed Stile’s scent to his locker, sniffed a pair of his underwear greedily, and then guiltily stuffed them into his jacket pocket.

That afternoon he ran up the stairs and pulled his dick out of his jeans as soon as he dropped onto the bed. He pressed the stupid Iron Man boxers up against his nose and took deep inhales that made him shudder. It smelled like boy sweat, hormones, and just pure Stiles, thick and heady. Tugging his length roughly, Derek ran his tongue over the fabric of the crotch until it was soaked with his spit. 

He came embarrassingly quickly and then smeared the cum on his stomach with the boxers, enjoying the way their scents mingled together. Those damn boxers are still shoved underneath his pillow, and he gets off with them at least once a day, usually more. He hasn’t masturbated this much since he was a teenager. 

The passenger door opening pulls Derek out of his head and Stiles throws his bag into the back seat. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how cool your car is” Stiles beams at him as he buckles in. In the confined space of the car, Stiles’ scent hits him like punch to the gut. The teenage musk is overpowering, invading his nostrils. He pulls out of the parking lot and tries to focus on getting to the Stilinksi house as fast as possible because this is torture. 

Stiles is babbling about something as they drive, but Derek doesn’t hear a word of it. He’s too busy trying to focus on the road instead of the sweaty, underage boy sitting next to him. Despite his valiant effort, Derek almost swerves into oncoming traffic when Stiles starts absentmindedly chewing on the tips of his glove. And the way his cock is swelling up does not help the driving situation either.

When they finally pull up to the house Derek practically jumps out of the car to escape the smell. Stiles turns his keys in the lock and then says tentatively,

“Thanks, uh… did you want to come in or something?”

“Wha-” Derek starts until he realizes he is just standing dumbly in the driveway, “Oh, yeah, sure.”

Derek follows him inside and shuts the door behind him, standing there for a moment trying to collect himself. 

“So I’m gonna take a quick shower, make yourself at home I guess.” 

Derek plops himself down on the couch as Stiles heads up the stairs. He listens to Stiles’ movements on the second floor, the sound of his lacrosse bag being dropped to the floor, the shuffling of fabric that must mean he is getting undressed, and his footsteps down the hall towards the bathroom.

As soon as Derek hears the bathroom door click shut, he bounds silently up the stairs and into Stiles’ room. Before he can think better of it, he grabs the discarded red shorts off the floor and rubs the smooth material over his face.

The scent is fresh and strong, and it goes straight to his cock which hardens almost instantly. Derek is muffling a groan in the shorts when he hears a quiet squeak from the doorway.

Derek’s heart feels like it has dropped into the pit of his stomach and he knows he is done for. Still kneeling on the floor, he slowly drags his eyes up to Stiles’ face, where his mouth is dropped into a surprised O. 

The few tense seconds seem to drag on endlessly. His gaze flicks from Derek’s eyes, to the damning evidence in his hand, and finally to the obscene bulge in his jeans. _This is it,_ Derek thinks, _tentative friendship over. He’ll probably report me to his dad and I’ll get arrested all over again. At least this time it’ll be for a crime I actually committed._

Derek braces himself for Stiles to scream, call him a pervert, or chase him out of the house, but all that comes out of his mouth is,

“I, uh, forgot to grab a change of clothes…” 

Stiles’ voice is weak and breathy and a rosy blush is starting to spread across his cheeks. A new scent of arousal floods the air and for the first time Derek considers that he might not be the only one harboring a crush. Thinking about that possibility knocks the air out of his lungs, there’s no way that Stiles actually wants him too. This can’t be his life, things never work out in his favor. Derek drops his gaze to the towel slung low around Stile’s waist and sure enough, it has started to tent at the front.

Derek’s raging boner makes him very brave or very stupid, but either way he has been on edge way too long and he finally follows his instincts. With a low rumble in his chest he lets the shorts slip from his grasp and then he has Stiles crowded up against the wall in the blink of an eye.

“What are you- ah! doing?” Stiles exclaims as Derek buries his face into the tender flesh of Stiles’ neck. 

“you. just. smell. so. damn. good.” Derek punctuates each word with a nuzzle or short lick, making Stiles shiver. 

“Not that I don’t appreciate the nuzzling, or the- hnnngg- the tongue, but isn’t this kind of gross? I’m all sweaty from practice.” 

“Mmmm, exactly” Derek purrs as he drags his tongue over Stiles collar bone in a long slow swipe. 

“So is this like a wolf thing?”

“Shut up Stiles.”

“Okay, yeah. Shutting up now. Just do your thing, really, go nuts.”

He grabs Stiles’ wrists and pins both of them above his head with one hand so he can shove his nose into his armpit and take a large inhale. It’s musky, and earthy, and perfect; so much better when it’s coming from the source and not a stale piece of clothing. 

His breath must tickle because Stiles starts to squirm in his grip, his bright blush now spreading over his neck and ears. Stiles gasps when Derek’s hot breath ghosts over his nipple, and it turns into a moan when he flicks his tongue over it teasingly. He runs the flat of his tongue over it until it perks up and then sucks it into his mouth. 

When Derek scrapes his teeth lightly over the nipple Stiles’ knees buckle and Derek’s grip on his wrists is the only thing holding him upright. 

Chuckling, Derek pauses until Stiles can stand on his own again and then releases his hands to continue his exploration. He runs his hands down the sides of Stiles’ body until they rest on his hips in a firm grip. As he travels downward, Derek leaves wet kisses and sucks dark marks on the skin of his chest and stomach.

By the time Derek reaches the dark patch of hair under his belly button, Stiles is making these little panting noises that only urge the wolf on. He runs his nose through the hair once and then looks up at Stiles for permission. 

When Stiles finally realizes what Derek is asking he nearly chokes. He just nods his head and lets out a whisper that is barely audible even to Derek’s ears, 

“Please… Derek.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to tug the towel down from his slim hips. It falls to the ground to reveal the boy’s flushed cock, hard and straining up towards his stomach. Derek takes a moment to eye it hungrily before diving in and savoring the sweet scent.

Derek presses his nose into the crook of Stiles’ hip before mouthing and licking along the balls and smooth length. He’s taking his time enjoying the salty taste of skin until Stiles practically sobs and tries to thrust forward. The effort is futile with the strong hands holding him in place so he finally begs,

“Derek come on! Stop teasing, there’s only so much one teenage boy can take! You’re killing me here!”

“Do you want me to stop?” Derek asks with a smirk.

“No! For the love of all that is good in this world don’t stop! I just meant you should really get on with it alre-”

Stiles is interrupted by Derek tossing him on the bed like he weighs nothing before Derek pounces on him and sucks his dick into his mouth. 

His head drops back against the mattress so fast that he probably would have given himself a concussion if he were still standing against the wall. Derek is doing frankly magical things with his tongue that Stiles can’t quite process because his brain is stuck on a loop of hot. wet. Derek. fuck. yes. good. more.

Derek bobs up and down on his cock, not quite able to fit it all in his mouth. But Stiles doesn’t seem to mind if the loud moans Derek is pretty sure he doesn’t know he’s making are any indication. 

It’s sloppy and wet Derek stops every so often to lick around the head or up along the underside. It isn’t long before Stiles is fisting the sheets and his breath catches in his throat so Derek takes him down as far as he can without gagging until Stiles' back bows off the bed and he spills down Derek’s throat. 

A large sleepy grin splits Stiles’ face while Derek licks up what he couldn’t manage to swallow. He’s enjoying the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat coming back down to a normal rate but of course Derek shouldn’t have expected Stiles to be silent for long even after an orgasm.

“So all those times you were watching me at practice, this is what you were thinking of? Did you run home and jerk off picturing me?”

Now it’s Derek’s turn to flush.

“I’m sorry,” Derek stammers, “I didn’t mean to be creepy, I just couldn’t help myself and I- I didn’t know you could see me.” 

He averts Stiles’ gaze and starts to move away until Stiles grabs his chin and tilts it up, forcing him to look.

“Whoa, hold your horses big guy. I’m flattered, honestly! I didn’t think I was anybody’s masturbatory fantasy. Besides, it’s only fair after all the times I’ve cum picturing you in that obscene wife beater. Seriously, that thing should come with a parental advisory warning or something.”

Derek’s mouth tugs up at the corners before he surges up and kisses Stiles. Stiles kisses back through giggles, still riding the endorphin high. The kisses are slow and sweet; gentle with neither one really taking control.

He doesn’t know how long they spend like that, just taking time to get to know each other’s mouths. Derek is content to lie in Stiles arms and kiss him forever, until Stiles hips shift and remind him that his own hard dick is still trapped untouched in his pants. A moan rushes out against Stiles’ lips at the friction and he pulls back with a devious grin.

His hand sneaks down between them to cup Derek through the front of his jeans. He gives an experimental squeeze and Derek bucks forward involuntarily. After trying and failing to pop the button on Derek’s jeans, Stiles lets out a frustrated sigh and rolls Derek off of him and onto his back for better access.

Once Derek’s throbbing dick is finally free of the constricting material Stiles suddenly looks hesitant. 

“Stiles, you don’t have to…”

“Obviously, I know I don’t have to” Stiles sighs, looking at Derek like he’s just said the sky is blue. “I’ve just never touched another dude’s dick before, give me a minute here.”

After a moment’s deliberation Stiles takes Derek in his hand and gives a few timid tugs. With an awestruck look on his face, Stiles tightens his grip and starts to get into a rhythm. Goddamn, Derek knew he liked those big hands for a reason! 

It’s good, so so good. Just knowing that Stiles is touching him, especially with that reverent look on his face like there is nothing else he’d rather be doing than stroking Derek’s cock. The pressure and speed are perfect, and Stiles gives a few expert flicks of his wrist that really demonstrate just how much time he’s spent masturbating in his short life.

He rubs his thumb over the head, smearing precum down the length, and that takes it up a notch. It’s now impossible for Derek to keep his eyes open so he just gives up and lets the pleasure wash over him until he’s gasping for breath and bucking up into Stile’s fist.

“Stiles, fuck!”

Suddenly Derek is coming with a grunt and it feels like he’s had the wind knocked out of him as he spills over Stiles’ hand. He grabs Stiles’ wrist and sucks two of his long slender fingers into his mouth, humming around them. Stiles whimpers at the sight.

“Holy shit, that’s so hot. You’re so hot, how did this even happen?”

Instead of answering, Derek just drags Stiles down with a squawk onto the bed so his front is plastered all along Stiles’ back and curls one of his arms possessively over his chest. Stiles snuggles back into Derek’s warmth and huffs out a put upon sigh.

“I hope you know that just because I put out does not mean that you can avoid taking me on real dates, I’m not that kind of boy.”

“I know Stiles, now shut up and go to sleep.”

The last thought Derek has before he drifts off to sleep is that now he can enjoy Stiles’ scent (among other things) whenever he wants; his creeper days are officially over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another chapter planned for this, stay tuned!


	2. Chapter 2

The bright light of the sun setting through the Stiles’ bedroom window is what wakes Derek up a few hours later. As he gently rises to consciousness, Derek is flooded with the feelings of warmth and safety. Stiles is sprawled out on the bed next to him, limbs sticking out at odd angles. He would be convinced this is all a dream if not for the dried cum on his stomach.

Since they didn’t bother to get under the blankets before they passed out, Derek takes the time to silently admire the boy. His pink lips are parted and inviting looking, and his skin takes on a creamy glow wherever the sunlight hits his long, slender body. He has these two dimples on his lower back, just above the swell of his ass that look like they were made for Derek’s thumbs to grip while fucking into Stiles.

Soon Derek wants to do more than just look, and has to run his fingers lightly over every part of Stiles- up and down his smooth back, over his shoulders, and all along his firm legs. Stiles lets out a small contented sigh but otherwise shows no signs of waking up. Derek pays close attention to his heart beat while he runs his palms slowly up Stiles’ thighs, inching closer and closer to his pale cheeks. 

The anticipation is maddening, and Derek gasps when he finally pulls Stiles’ cheeks apart with his thumbs to get a clear view of his ass. His hole is pink and perfect, and the sight of it makes Derek’s mouth water. He presses his face gently into the crease, and just inhales. The scent is strongest here, warm and heady, Derek is almost dizzy with it. 

He can’t resist the urge to let his tongue slowly run around and over his entrance, and Derek thinks that he’s already addicted to the way he tastes down there. Stiles’ hips start to rock back onto Derek’s tongue and forward thrusting his hardening length into the mattress. His hole is pliant and relaxed in his sleep, so it doesn’t take much effort at all for Derek to press his tongue into the ring of muscle. At that Stiles lets out a quiet moan and finally begins to stir.

When Stiles regains consciousness, he freezes for a brief moment as he tries to comprehend what exactly is happening. Derek is then struck with the realization that he has been licking Stiles’ ass while he was asleep, and that’s got to be some kind of breech of ethics when it comes to consent. Just because they had some pretty awesome mutual orgasms earlier doesn’t mean that Stiles is down for rimming without talking about it first. Jesus, three hours into this relationship and he’s already screwing it up.

So Derek is sitting there with his face inches from Stiles’ ass, about to start apologizing profusely when Stiles looks back over his shoulder and asks,

“Hey, why’d you stop?”

And then like the pushy teenager he is he reaches back and grabs a fistful of Derek’s hair to pull him back in. Derek doesn’t even have time to be relieved because he’s got a face full of Stiles’ again and he’s gonna do his damn best to worship him like he deserves. Now that he has permission, he starts thrusting his tongue in with all he’s got, fast and hard until Stiles’ hole is dripping with Derek’s spit.

Stiles is panting and biting his pillow, trying to figure out how he went from complete virgin to getting his butt licked by a twenty something werewolf in less than 5 hours. 

When Derek’s jaw starts to ache he switches to teasing little licks of his tongue and lightly biting the globes of his ass. Stiles is writhing underneath him and moaning until he just can’t take it anymore. 

“Der- ah! Derek, if you don’t fuck me right now, I think I might literally die.”

Well if Derek wasn’t completely hard before, he certainly is now. After one last slow lick, Derek crawls up the bed so that he is balanced on his forearms over Stiles.

“Are you sure?”

Stiles turns underneath Derek’s body so that he is on his back and looking up at him. Their faces are so close and Stiles is staring at him like he’s searching for something in Derek’s eyes. The intensity of his gaze makes Derek antsy, like he’s being tested, but he doesn’t dare break eye contact.

After a few moments, Stiles seems satisfied with whatever he reads on Derek’s face and says yes without hesitation. Then he circles his arms around Derek’s neck and kisses the breath right out of him.

When they finally break the kiss Derek drops down to suck a large dark mark at the junction of Stiles’ neck and shoulder while Stiles rakes his nails down Derek’s back. Derek’s answering growl causes Stiles to grind his hips upwards, rubbing their erections together. Even just rutting against each other makes Stiles feel like his every nerve ending is on fire. At this rate, Stiles is gonna cum before Derek even puts it in, so he reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a bottle of lube and tosses it at Derek.

Derek slicks up the fingers of his right hand and pushes Stiles’ leg up with his other hand, then he just rubs at Stiles entrance with one finger and teases him with the tip.

“Have you ever had anything up here before?”

Stiles is blushing hard now that he’s facing Derek instead of the pillows while he touches him there, but he eventually answers,

“Just…just a couple of my own fingers.”

“I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“Wow you’re such a sap,” Stiles teases. 

Derek answers the taunt by pushing his finger all the way in which makes Stiles choke out a gasp. He starts thrusting it in and out slowly and wow the angle is definitely different when it’s someone else’s hand. 

Just when Stiles is about to tell him to get on with it, Derek slides in another finger. Derek’s fingers are definitely wider than Stiles’ own so the stretch is a little more than he’s used to, but it doesn’t exactly hurt. After a few more thrusts it starts to feel amazing, which sort of makes Stiles lose all shame so he just reaches down with his left hand and pulls his other leg up so he is spread out and exposed before Derek. 

Derek takes that as an invitation to insert a third finger and he is just blown away by how tight and hot Stiles feels around him, clenching down around his fingers. Derek is watching in awe where his fingers disappear inside of Stiles as he loosens him up.

It feels like Derek has been fingering him for hours and Stiles it at risk of actually biting through his lip when Derek finally asks,

“Are you ready?”

All Stiles can do is nod at this point so Derek coats himself in lube and lines himself up at Stiles’ entrance.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

He pushes in and it feels… well it feels fucking weird. Even after the thorough prep it’s still a big adjustment so it hurts as Derek slowly sinks into him. When he bottoms out Derek can smell the discomfort pouring off of Stiles so he leans down and nuzzles the side of his face and neck to distract him and give him time to get used to the sensation of feeling full.

“Breathe Stiles, you have to Breathe.”

Stiles lets out a long shaky breath and unclenches his hands from the sheets.

“You can move, just go slow with my virgin ass.”

Derek chuckles and presses chaste kisses to his lips while he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in. Each thrust feels a little better and soon it actually starts to feel pretty good. The inescapable feeling of Derek surrounding him, being inside of him, is pretty intense but he doesn’t think about that for long because one particularly deep thrust has Stiles moaning and gripping the sheets in a good way.

Derek has been a proper gentleman during this whole experience, and god Stiles wants to be good at this so he probably just shouldn’t let Derek do all the work. Eventually he starts thrusting his hips up to match Derek’s rhythm. It’s not enough though, so he wraps his legs around Derek’s waist and pulls him in, forcing him deeper. 

A surprised grunt pushes its way past Derek’s lips at that and it’s obvious that’s he’s trying hard to restrain himself, but that’s no fun so Stiles just blurts out,

“Okay, I changed my mind. I’m done with slow, I may be human but you’re not gonna break me, come on.”

That seems to be all the encouragement Derek needs to let loose and thrust into Stiles with enthusiasm. Wet slapping noises fill the room and if Stiles wasn’t busy getting his brains fucked out he would mention how absolutely filthy it sounds.

Stiles can’t even attempt to contain the loud moans now, losing all higher brain function as Derek is pretty successfully attempting to fuck him through the mattress. He dares to look at Derek’s face again and those stupidly beautiful eyes that can’t decide if they’re blue or green are watching him intently, looking at him like he’s something precious. 

It’s all almost too much and Stiles needs to cum like twenty minutes ago so he starts to reach a hand down to touch himself when Derek grabs both of his wrists and pins him down to the bed. Stiles lets out a totally manly whimper at the feeling of Derek’s strong hands holding him in place, and _hello_ , there’s a kink he didn’t know he had.

That’s when Derek leans down and whispers in his ear,

“I bet you can cum like this without even touching yourself, just from taking my dick, can’t you? Come on Stiles, I wanna see it.”

The dirty talk is really the last straw and Stiles finally just lets go and he cums harder than he ever has in his life. He’s dimly aware of Derek fucking him through his orgasm and mouthing at his ear and neck, but everything is hazy and warm, the room spinning. 

When he finally comes back down to Earth Derek is kneeling above him and stroking himself quickly, panting and obviously close. When he cums it lands all over Stiles’ stomach, which _ew gross_. But apparently that’s not enough though because then Derek runs his fingers through it, mixing their seed together and into Stiles’ skin.

Stiles is way too blissed out to care though, so he just laughs instead. 

“If you’re going to make a mess all over me it’s officially your job to clean it up.”

Derek makes a vaguely positive grunt as he looks over the picture Stiles makes. The way their scents mingle together, the way his mate is so obviously marked, and the fact that Stiles is sated and happy all please Derek’s wolf. 

“God, you’re perfect” Derek says fondly. 

Dark blush immediately spreads over Stiles’ already flushed cheeks with the praise. A low satisfied rumble makes its way from Derek’s chest as he snuggles up against Stiles’ side once more.

Before too long they have to stop cuddling and get themselves cleaned up because the sheriff is due back from his shift. Derek leaves Stiles with a sweet goodbye kiss before he jumps out the window just as the cruiser is pulling into the driveway. 

The sheriff is immediately suspicious when Stiles can’t stop smiling all through dinner, but maybe he knows from experience that’s it’s usually better not to ask what kind of mischief Stiles is up to.

The next day when Stiles gets home from school, there is a pair of familiar looking boxers folded up neatly on his bed. A note is tucked underneath them that simply reads _Guess I won’t be needing these anymore._

He thinks it must say something about his sanity that he is flattered and amused instead of creeped out that his pervy boyfriend stole his underwear. Stiles is just grateful that Derek bothered to wash them before sneaking into his room to return them.


End file.
